Recipe for One Bayport
by imaginationstarie13
Summary: DISCONTINUED The Bayport community is never the same when the Hardys move from California to the town, changing what everyone thought was a good structure to something new and unusual. Let the fun begin! AU
1. One Bayport

Another Hardy Boy fanfic!

This one was voted out of the ones that I offered to be started and finished first. Unlike my other ones, there is no death (that I have planned, at least) and a bit more humor. Basically, it's friendship building and stuff. (A lot of stuff.)

It's an AU. I'll explain the main plot points that one should retain at end of the chapter, so you guys can figure some stuff out yourself.

I do not own the Hardy Boys (though I really wish I did!)

Enjoy!

* * *

**Start with a base of one Bayport. It may be speculating and spreading rumors, but that's okay. It should settle by the end.**

"Did you hear?" Iola practically burst in pure anticipation for the answers she would receive.

"Hear what?" her older brother, Chet, asked. His voice lacked the curiosity that Iola was hoping for, which added to the excitement she put in delivering the news.

"The Hardys are moving here!"

"Um, Iola? Hate to burst your bubble, but Mrs. Anderson's name has been changed to Ms. Hardy for over a month," Callie reminded her friend. "And she's been here since forever."

"I was talking about her brother and his family!"

"She has a brother?" Biff asked from his seat on the porch. "It's already bad enough that she goes around and scolds everyone."

"He's a PI from California," Iola told the group matter-of-factly. "And he has three kids about our age, from what I've heard."

"Do you know what they're like?" Phil asked, not looking up from his laptop.

"Is it possible for them to be as bad as Ms. Hardy?" Tony added before taking a sip from his soda. "That would be a nightmare!"

"I don't know. Ms. Hardy was complaining that they take more from their father's side of the family instead of her example."

"Her example? She was in something that was very close to an emotionally abusive marriage for years!" Callie said. "For those kids' sakes, I hope they are strong."

"Two of them are boys and one's a girl," Iola said, trying to rack her brain for more facts. "Do you think the girl will be weak with two brothers?"

"Depends on the brother. I mean, you got Chet and see how that turned out!" Biff said with a laugh.

"Hey!"

"A PI? Hm…" Phil continued typing away, until he spotted whatever he was looking for. "The only PI I can find with Hardy as a last name is a guy named Fenton Hardy. You said California, right?"

"Yeah."

"Think this is the guy and his family, then." A few more clicks, and then the self proclaimed nerd of the group turned the laptop so everyone else could see the picture on the screen. "The article that came along said something about how the kids got into a fight during school. There's an impending investigation-"

"Probably because someone didn't tuck in their shirts," Biff joked, despite noting that the three younger people in the photo reminded him of the group.

"-and from the sounds of it, the other people initiated it. And all of them are in the hospital. I'll look into it more," Phil finished, as if he was never interrupted.

"There's nothing more that needs to be looked into," Callie said. "Those people ended up in a hospital. Doesn't that tell you a bit?"

"We should probably stay away," Chet agreed. "It we're lucky, they'll get into a fight with Brian at school. We'll be rid of one bully."

"And get a new one? No thanks." Phil shook his head slightly. "We'll play it by ear, then."

"As if that'll make violence better," Callie muttered.

Iola smiled, muttering a goodbye before heading back out to her planned destination of the shopping plaza. Her mind told her that the walk would take far too long for her to start any decent shopping, but her soul told her to go. There was someone that she had to see now. Someone close…

"Oh, Iola, how have you been?" Ms. Hardy asked. She had been watching from the porch of her now empty house, rid of anything that Mr. Anderson's lawyer had helped him lay claim to. Her knitting supplies (one of the few things that she was able to keep) lay by her feet, a sign that the woman had been distracting herself the whole day.

"Fine, Ms. Hardy. And you?" Iola didn't mind the older woman too much. She silently wondered how much the divorce changed her, and wouldn't have been too surprised to see that the woman who seemed tough on the outside shatter.

"Oh, fine… It's just…" Ms. Hardy gave a long, maybe even woeful, sigh. "I was thinking about my brother."

The girl stepped forward on the path to the house, curiosity peaked. It had been an unwritten rule before the divorce that no one would speak of Gertrude Anderson's (now Hardy) sibling. Rumors had it that there had been a great big fight over the man's choice of love, which pushed him and his new family over to the other coast. They haven't kept in any sort of contact in decades.

"Your brother, Ms. Hardy?"

"Yes, Fenton. He… He once told me that his love for Laura was better than my love for Ryan Anderson. I told him he was a fool for even trying to compare our relationships. And he was. Laura was outspoken and tough… she balanced him on a lot of ways. Ryan… well, you know how he is, dear."

Iola nodded. She did know. "So… Is Mr. Hardy going to move in with you?"

"Yes. Fenton thinks that it'll be easier access for main cases. He's a private eye, you know. He also thinks that the chance of scenery would do his children wonders." Ms. Hardy paused, setting down the knitting needles next to her chair. "They got into a fight trying to stop some kids from bringing weapons to their school. They weren't expelled or anything, but…"

"But what?"

"The kids got rough. And with a combination of drugs that they used… My nephews' and niece's retaliation seemed too much for their bodies to handle."

"Oh." So that was what happened. She should tell the others-

Callie's words came back to haunt her. _"As if that'll make the violence better."_ Maybe the other girl will be right. After all, what could one moment say about a person? Shouldn't they have to prove themselves first?

Iola waved the woman goodbye, and continued on her way. They'll find out soon enough. She could only hope.

* * *

So...

The Hardys actually live in California. Due to a rift between Fenton and the rest of his family (will be explained next chapter) he and Laura moved over to the West Coast to start a family and life. He did, however, spend some time on the NYPD. So, he raised his family in Cali, Frank (the oldest) and Joe and Madison (twins, and Maddie is my OC because we all know that Laura probably couldn't stand all boys in the family). All three children did inherit their father's love of solving mysteries. We'll see them more next chapter.

As for Bayport: Gertrude Anderson (married and changed her name) was know to be a strict older figure of the community, but some noticed that the relationship she was in was emotionally abusive. After years of help and gaining self confidence, she ended the marriage, but her former husband ended up with most of the stuff. In solitude, Gertrude tries to make amends and calls her brother after decades of not speaking to each other. To her surprise, Fenton offers to move back over there to live in the house with her. But the kids' reputation proceeds them, even if not in the fullest light...

And now to let you imagine a bit as I write more. *waves*


	2. Five Hardys

Now lets all travel to the other side of the country and meet this universe's version of the Hardys!

I do not own the Hardy Boys (or the dog. That actually came from the Killer Mission trilogy, because I think that they would love to have a dog like Killer).

Enjoy!

* * *

**Add five cups of Hardys to the base. Some of them shall be complaining for a bit, but they will settle down as time goes on.**

_"We're moving?" a chorus of teenage voices rang out, all full of disbelief._

"_Why now?" Frank, the oldest of the three, asked with disbelief._

"_East Coast? You do realize how far that is, right?" Madison, the second oldest by mere minutes, added._

"_Was it because of the fight?" the youngest of the siblings, Joe, asked._

"_Yes Madison, I know how far it is. We're planning to go next week, when school finishes up. Joe, the fight does have some part in this decision, I'll admit, but it was insignificant. And Frank…" Fenton sighed, leaning back against the chair. The dining room seemed to go tense as the man planned out an explanation._

"_It's your Aunt Gertrude." Laura's voice rang through the room as she briskly walked in, placing most of her folders on the table. "She just managed to break free from an emotionally abusive husband, lost most of her things to him, and needs to start again. Your father thinks that we can help."_

_The three teenagers were silent for a moment. Then, in a collective movement, they all went to the kitchen without a single word passing between them._

_Laura watched for a moment, her blue eyes focusing on the doorway. "They'll think about it, Fenton. That's all we can ask for."_

That had been two weeks ago. At the moment, all three of his children were packing away their belongings on the floor above him. It was their answer: They never gave verbal consent, but had silently agreed to the move.

"Really, Fenton. Why?"

Fenton turned to look at Sam Radley, his partner in his investigations for the last few decades. He would trust the man with everything.

_But he doesn't understand this. He's a bachelor._

The PI searched for the words that Sam would be able to understand. In reality, this move was bold and unbalancing to all of them. If someone had told him that his sister would call him in the middle of the night and cry over the phone, he wouldn't have believed it. Trudy had sworn to never speak to him again. And if it was his sister, it would most likely be true.

When he heard that the laughter moved to the kitchen, he felt as if the answer had come to him.

"Come in here." Taking his cup of coffee in one hand, Fenton led the other man into the kitchen.

The three teenagers had a flow to their movements as they walked around the kitchen, barely missing each other as they brought ingredients from one area to another. A few bowls had been set apart from each other, each containing a different set of ingredients.

"Carrots," Frank muttered to one of the two twins.

"Got it," Madison said, pulling out a cutting board and knife.

"You know," Sam muttered, "I still can't tell who's Joe and who's Madison half of the time."

Fenton ignored the comment. He had heard it often enough. Despite being fraternal twins, Joe and Maddie had found a way to appear almost completely alike. While nature had taken its course and gave them a difference in physical appearance due to their respective genders, there had been other things that kept them alike. The hair and eye color turned out to be exactly the same, which seemed to be emphasized by the same style haircut. Maddie had developed some muscles while her chest remained… well, to put it in Joe's terms, "very flat." With the right clothing, it would be very hard to tell them apart.

Frank stood out in his usual manner. His brown hair was cut shorter than his siblings' and his eyes were of a similar shade of brown. Only a bit taller than the other two, his presence was immensely calmer that the two combined. There was some kind of aura that he had around people that took some of the static away. While he didn't exercise it often, Frank had a way in getting many people to simply calm down and think.

"Gertrude and I were just like them. Different, I mean. But we were never like them. We would always fight. And every time I promised myself that I would find a way to make it better the next day, she would get me upset." Fenton sighed softly. "It's been well over half a century. We might as well take a shot at this sibling thing before one of us kicks the bucket."

"How about them?" Sam asked, nodding his head towards the teenagers.

"They need a change of pace. From what I've heard, the fight left them in a delicate position socially in school."

"And Laura?"

"Doesn't care that much. She doesn't mind the fact that it's near the city."

"City? Which- Oh. New York City."

"That's what we used to call it when we grew up around there."

"Lemme ask another question. Why is it that a disagreement about you marrying Laura sending you to the other side of the country, when you fully know that you are attached to solving crime in New York City?"

"You think my sister was the only one who disliked my marriage?" The PI turned and slipped out of the room, but not before glancing at his children again. "My parents disinherited me the second we took our wedding vows. Never patched things up with them, but it was better off than whatever I had with Gertrude."

It took Sam a second, but the man nodded in content. "Things happen. Just don't want you to regret it later on."

"If I do, it's just a sign that I'm living."

* * *

"I think it's a sign," Joe said very loudly as Laura and Fenton walked through the front door for the last time. "I mean, they trust us with the car, the bike, and the dog, while they get the truck with all of the goods attached."

"I'm waiting for a point," Maddie responded back, frowning.

"They obviously don't trust us with their stuff."

"I wouldn't trust you with my stuff either," Frank said. "Killer, here boy!'

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Frank. And am I the only one who gave thought to changing Killer's name?"

"Joe, we've had Killer for two years. You could have said something then."

Madison chimed in with, "And can you think of a better name for a German Shepard that worked with the police since he was a puppy?"

"Yeah," Joe answered back, his voice completely calm and neutral tone. "Fluffy."

"Please, there's barely any fur on Killer!"

"For what it's worth, I've noticed."

"It isn't worth a bunch."

"Thanks a lot, Mad."

"Your welcome, Joe."

From what Fenton could see of his oldest son, Frank had rolled his eyes.

"Okay, you three, that's enough," Laura declared. "If we plan to reach anywhere today, we have to go. Now."

Frank led Killer into the backseat, where the dog easily took up all three seats. "Who gets the motorcycle?"

"I do." Joe pulled the keys out of the pocket. "And I made sure that I grabbed the right helmet this time."

"How can you not? Yours is the stupid bright orange one."

"And yours is the stupid bright crimson one."

"And you both better stop it, if you don't mind." Frank opened the door to the driver's seat, sighing loudly. "I'm starting to count down the seconds 'til we have separate rooms-"

"Correction. You have the separate room. Me and Joe are sharing."

Frank mumbled something under his breath as he slipped into the car, Madison taking the passenger's seat. Joe, after making sure that his windbreaker was zipped up and secured, mounted the bike that the siblings shared. Giving a wave to Fenton and Laura, Joe took off across the street without sparing another glance at what had been his house for the past seventeen years. Within seconds, the car followed behind.

"It's better this way." Laura's statement caused Fenton to glance at her, so she continued. "I talked to their teachers a few days ago. Even before the fight, they were relatively alone."

"And how come we didn't know this beforehand?"

"Because they made a request." Closing her eyes for a brief second, Laura walked forward to open the door of her truck. "Do you know why they started cooking, Fenton?"

"After that case…"

They both knew what case he was referring to. When all of the children were in middle school, the PI managed to find himself in a very sticky case. It took hours for him to deal with the hostage situation five states away from home, and another additional few spent on the plane. By the time he got home, the siblings had cooked a large meal in hopes of distracting themselves while working on Frank's home education project. After that, they assumed all of the cooking duties.

"Well, apparently they were able to convince teachers from then until now that their social life wasn't all that important. They've spent most of their time hanging out with each other or doing other work. They never had a social life to begin with."

Realization hit the man like a ton of bricks. "But how-"

"I don't know. All I do know is that they never had an attachment to any place, even here."

Somehow, Fenton could believe it. His children stood out, and it probably didn't help them gain friends. If he actually did think about it, he never heard about Frank having any kind of friends of the same age, and the twins were pretty much attached to each other when it came to socializing.

"Home is where they are together," he finally concluded, walking down the steps of the porch slowly. He spared the house a glance. "I guess the place doesn't matter."

"It never did. Not to them, at least." She offered a sigh at the end of her analysis. "Maybe things will be different."

"Maybe."

* * *

And that's the Hardys!

I gave Frank, Joe, and Mad cooking skills because Trudy isn't there to cook for them. They're actually pretty good, but each has a specialty or two.

As for the rooming thing that was briefly mentioned (and will be mentioned later) Joe and Madison actually share a room with bunk beds. They've got a system where they don't kill each other (but possibly beat each other up often) while Frank shares his room with Killer. And Madison socks Joe every time he mentions the current state of her chest, even though she really doesn't care that much.

Laura's a research librarian (keeping it UB a bit) and Fenton's Fenton (except it's in the books' universe and not mine, so that means I won't torture him to the point of no return in this story. I have no idea why I'm actually being nice to the man this time. *shrugs*


	3. Some Furniture

If anyone goes on deviantArt and tries to find this chapter, you won't at the moment. It won't accept the piece, but hopefully it will be resolved in a bit.

I do not own the Hardy Boys.

Enjoy!

* * *

**When the Hardys and Bayport mix at first, you should notice that the Hardys have a dash of road trip experience on them. Don't worry, it'll be fine. Now, add a few handfuls of furniture and other objects that the Hardys own into the mix.**

Gertrude Hardy watched as the motorcycle pulled into the driveway. Something in her swelled up with happiness. The part of her mind that thought that the promise of the move was an elaborate trick from her brother as revenge for her own wrongdoings almost vanished as she watch the young male pull of his helmet, allowing his blond hair to fall into place.

She forced herself to walk out the front door. She tried to recall the name of the boy twin. What was it? Joe, that's right.

"Hello Joe!"

The boy stopped walking, a confused look filling his face. "I'm mad."

"Huh?" What kind of greeting what that?

A car pulled up, and after quickly pulling into the driveway, another blond boy (looking exactly like the one who came from the motorcycle) came out from the driver's seat.

The boy with the helmet still in his arm pointed at the other one with his free hand. "He's Joe."

It took her a moment to digest the information. "So you're Madison."

Joe laughed loudly, turning to the brunette that was walking around the car with a dog leash in his hand. "See? I told you!"

"You know, if you guys just cut your hair differently or something, this whole thing can be avoided," the brunette (who Gertrude remembered to be named Frank) said with a sigh. "It's like you do it on purpose."

"You've known us all your life! How can you accuse us of trying to trick people? I mean, the only issue is that Mad's chest is as flat as a-"

"That's it, Joseph Irving Hardy, you're a dead man!" Madison dropped her helmet on the grass and started chasing her twin brother, who had promptly started running away from her.

Frank sighed again, before saying, "Here boy!" A large German Shepherd came walking behind, warily watching the blond siblings. "Hi Aunt Gertrude."

"Hello, Frank. Shouldn't you…" Her sentence trailed off as she looked at Madison and Joe.

"They'll stop soon. It's their little ritual." He turned his head slightly, a faint smile forming on his lips. "There they are. Thought we lost them to traffic."

The older woman turned her head to, watching as the moving van slowed down and parked in front of the house. The door to the driver's seat opened, revealing a Fenton Hardy that had aged quite a bit since she had last seen him.

"Hi, Trudy," Fenton said, waving almost cautiously at her. "You… um…"

"I know I look terrible, Fenton," Gertrude snapped back. She took in a breath, calming herself down, and tried again. "I'm sorry, Fen-"

"Mad! Joe! Stop it!" A blonde woman, younger that Gertrude, appeared near the back of the truck, her eyes glaring at the twins. "You two are supposed to help unpack, not chase each other around!"

"Sorry Mom." Almost instantly, the two halted.

"It's her fault, anyways," said Joe. "Aunt Gertrude thought Mad was me!"

"How about we go inside?" Fenton suggested, turning towards the house. "This might take a while." Without waiting for an answer, he walked up the steps to the porch and allowed himself through the door. Without much thought, Gertrude followed him in.

He glanced around at the empty rooms that he could see from his place, reminding her of a statue. There was almost no emotion written in his face. "So the bastard got away with almost everything."

She nodded. "We had the trial in the city. I guess that they don't have as much compassion over there."

"It's a business world. Most of my cases ended up there."

"I'm sorry that I don't have much to-"

"Don't worry. We dragged in all of our things. We just have to get around to unpacking it all."

"I asked some of the local kids to help. Maybe your children can make friends."

"I hope." She noted the bitterness in his voice. "I thought you would have your own kids by now."

"We were never ready." As an afterthought, she added, "Thank heavens."

"Well, you have my three to deal with now."

"I noticed. I thought that Madison would have tried to contrast her brothers as much as she could."

"We thought that too. But she tended to throw anything pink to the side and play with her brothers' trucks and action figures." He let out a chuckle at whatever memory his mind brought up. "She's tough. Don't really have to worry about boys taking advantage of her."

"If they realize she's a girl."

"There's that."

She thought for a second, recalling the scene she saw outside. "Fenton, they're… they're not like us, right?"

"The worse they get is a few bruises from they're own antics. Nothing serious though."

"Do you think we could have been like them if we tried?"

The two remained silent for a moment, as Fenton looked around the house again. Finally, he said, "No. We hadn't grown out of our childish arguments. We didn't have the connection that Frank, Joe, or Mad have. In fact, I'm not sure if we can ever be like them."

* * *

"They're different," Chet observed, watching as the three teenagers help the woman unpack the van. He, Biff, Tony, and Phil had volunteered to help unpack. Callie had also given them the job of "scouting out" the new kids. Honestly, Chet had signed up in hopes of getting some of Ms. Hardy's cooking at the end and not for spy business. But, as usual, he got himself roped into the plan.

"Might want to be a little more specific there, pal," Biff said.

"I mean, they're… they're laid back."

Phil nodded in agreement. "They don't seem to care what impression that they make with their actions. Quite intriguing, since most people who move in try to fit to the norms of the community they find themselves in. These people seem to not care whether or not they stand out."

"You only saw them for a minute, idiots."

"That's more than enough time to get a first impression of a customer," Tony said. Then, almost as an afterthought, the teenager added, "How much time have you spent with Brian, Biff? You're beginning to sound like him."

"He's on the football team. And the basketball team. And the baseball team. How can I avoid him exactly?"

"Avoid and become are two different things," Phil said. But at that point, the muscular teenager was already walking towards the moving van to make his presence known.

"Hey! You the new people moving in?" Biff called out in a less than formal greeting.

The blonde woman smiled at the group. "Yes. I'm Laura Hardy."

The four boys went around with their names, before Tony asked, "What about you're children, ma'am?"

"Call me Laura. Frank should be-"

"Here!" A brunette boy who was easily Biff and Tony's height walked towards the end of the moving truck, a box in hand. "Sorry, I was moving some things. Heard all the names, though."

"Need a hand? Your aunt asked if we could help."

"Well, I'm supposed to have the twins help-"

"We are helping!" a voice from the back of the van (beyond their sight) said. Two teenagers, one holding a lamp and the other having a box tucked under his arm, appeared.

"We… we just saw you…" Chet looked to the street, as if he expected the two to appear there suddenly.

"We can be quiet when we want to be," the one with the box said. "I'm Joe. She's Madison, but we cal her Mad." He jerked the thumb of his free hand in her direction.

"You look more like a guy than a girl," Biff observed.

"So I've been told." She stared at her brother before he could open his mouth. "Say one more thing about my chest and I will personally shove you off of your bunk in the middle of the night."

"Okay, geez…"

"Bunk? Who shares rooms?" Tony asked, probably out of curiosity.

"The twins," Frank said. He leapt off the edge, careful to land properly with the box still in his hands. "We haven't figured out how they didn't kill each other yet. I have a hypothesis-"

"You'll never figure out…" Joe jumped off the truck in a similar manner. "…the Wonder Twin Powers!"

"What?"

But at that point, the blond boy had already run towards the house, laughing in what Chet was supposed to be evil laughter.

Laura just shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder if the babies were switched in the hospital."

"Which would mean I'm not your kid, either," Mad pointed out. Unlike her brothers, she got off the back of the truck a little more slowly and a bit more grace. Chet figured it was because she was holding a lamp. "Or maybe Frank got switched, and that means all three of your kids genetically are a bit crazy."

"A bit?" Frank muttered.

But Mad had turned her attention to the group of four boys. "If you guys want to help, there're some boxes in the back of the things labeled 'Family Room.' Of course, none of us know where that is…"

"We'll figure it out." Tony climbed up the back of the truck. "Maybe we should move some of this other stuff first."

"Here then." Laura climbed up, surveying the mess of the family's things. Reaching over for a box, she handed it to the teenager. "That one's supposed to be in the kitchen, unless we labeled these wrong…"

"Okay."

In the end, Laura handed out boxes to each of the teens to bring to a room. They would go into the house, attempt to find the room, and either dumped the items in the living room or found the courage to ask Ms. Hardy where they belonged.

It was a taxing day, overall.

It was past dinner by the time the whole truck was unloaded and Mr. Hardy (who insisted on just being called Fenton) returned it to the rental company who had a place here. By then, everyone was exhausted and sitting among the unopened boxes in the kitchen.

"We should have gone shopping," Frank said, looking through the cabinets. "We could have made something for dinner."

"We'll have to settle for pizza," his mother replied, before looking at the four guests. "You boys wouldn't mind that for dinner?"

"Oh, you don't have to-" Phil began.

"Nonsense. You helped us unpack. It's only fair."

"You don't understand. Chet can eat a whole house clean," Biff said, spreading his hands in a sweeping motion to emphasis his point. "It'll take a lot out of your wallet!"

"HEY!"

"Oh good, an eating partner for Joe," Madison said lazily, leaning against the wall.

"I don't eat that much!"

"Have you seen yourself eat?"

Chet couldn't help but settle against a box from his own seat in the kitchen. Maybe Callie was wrong. They all seemed like good people (and not just because they were feeding them). In fact, despite his earlier claim, he was happy to have the other three teenagers around. They had a way to relax the atmosphere a bit (not to mention all of the stories they told while moving things around).

Maybe it's the kind of people they needed to add to their circle of friends.


	4. One Grocery Cart

This chapter is shorter than usual. Honestly, it grew from one scene that I wanted to write. That, and I threw in something... interesting, I think one would call it.

Special thanks to MCR-1993 and cheer 95 for reviewing!

I do not own the Hardy Boys. (Yet. *evil laughter*)

Enjoy!

* * *

**Add a grocery cart full of basic cooking ingredients to the mix. It should be placed between two of the Hardys, most likely one pushing it into the other.**

"I don't get you girls," Chet said. "I mean, you haven't met the family yet, and you still act like they're the biggest threat to the place!"

Callie and Iola looked up from their spots at the cash registers. They were both working for Harley's Groceries that particular day, which was right after the boys helped the Hardys move in. Iola had dragged her brother with her to her job, and Callie had convinced him to talk.

"They sound dangerous," Callie said. "I mean, they were able to sneak past you guys without you even noticing! Doesn't that sound-"

"Were you listening at all, Cal? We had a whole discussion at dinner. Those guys help their dad. Their dad is a PI. It's kinda needed to be able to sneak around and fight if you want to survive.

"It makes sense," Iola said. "I mean, now that we know what actually happened at their old school-"

"What do you mean?" Callie turned to the other girl, surprised that Iola knew something she didn't. While it wasn't uncommon that Callie lacked any knowledge of the gossip that Iola had, it was also common that Callie knew more if she was willing to research the topic.

"The people that they were fighting were in a local gang and brought weapons into their school. Someone went to get a security guard when the gang started attacking. The three fought back."

"And put them in the hospital?"

"The gang had a lot of drugs in their bloodstream. Doesn't take a lot more than a few hits and such to make their bodies try and shut down," Chet said. "They were showing us their moves after dinner. They've studied a lot of fighting techniques."

"Oh." Callie tried to process the information in her usual way. Honestly, she couldn't recall a single name of someone who had studied any kind of fighting (defensive or otherwise) that didn't have some kind of bad reputation attached to them. However, Chet's words approving the teens would upset the balance.

A set of greetings interrupted her thoughts.

"Hey Chet!" A blond boy walked over to the cash register, flashing a smile. "What's up?"

"Hey Joe. Callie, Iola, this is Joe. Joe-"

"Callie, Iola. Got it." He looked at Iola with a question written in his eyes. "You're related to Chet?"

"Yeah, siblings."

"And Chet said no boy tries to date you-"

"Hey!"

"I guess it's because of him."

Someone else came up quietly behind Joe. Callie stared, wondering who the other person was. Didn't Joe have a twin sister…?

"Already flirting?" The voice was surprisingly a higher pitch, like a girl's, but lower than what Callie had usually ever heard on a female. She smacked the blond boy in the back of his head. "I can't believe you."

The older teenage girl looked over the newest person to be near the cash register. She was wearing baggy guy clothes, hiding most of her body. Her hair was cut exactly the same as Joe's. If it weren't for the subtle differences in body structure, anyone could confuse her with a guy.

"…is Madison. Or Mad. Or Maddie."

"Or girl without bo- Ow! Stop that!"

"You know, every time you open your mouth, I want to hit you."

"Same to you!" Joe turned around, and got Mad into a headlock. "You're the one who messed up my bunk!"

"Is this… normal?" Iola hesitantly asked, her eyes dancing with a hint of laughter and amazement.

"Define normal," Mad said, twisting her way out of the headlock. "In our family, this is."

"Speaking of which, our family's going to get pretty annoyed unless we do the shopping."

"Which means no flirting now."

"Hey…" He released his hold on his sister, but not before punching her in the arm. "Fine. I'll get the cart. What are we cooking, anyways?"

"Dunno. Frank just tossed me a list of things we'll need…"

The twins walked away towards the produce area, Joe making a detour to get a cart.

"Wow, they're… something." Callie couldn't help but let her gaze focus on the figures until they disappeared. "Doesn't seem like they're eager to make friends."

"Maybe no one likes them enough," Iola said, a sad expression seeping into her eyes. "Maybe they were too different for everyone."

"That would explain a lot," Chet admitted. "They seem really close to each other, but they don't like talking to other people too much. Maybe people from California just didn't feel too friendly towards them. I like them, though. They offered to make some dishes to let us try."

"They sound like cooks."

"They are! In fact, according to their parents, they cook almost all the meals in the house! Maybe they're as good as Ms. Hardy!"

"Maybe."

The conversation turned to summer plans, but Callie's mind was still on the twins. Or, to be more specific, their clothing. It was a very warm day, and most people that she had managed to see were wearing thin layers. But the clothing that both Joe and Mad had donned were more of the concealing side, therefore there was more material in the clothing, and therefore made it thicker.

Why?

Before she could continue to think about it, Joe had once again stood in front of them, leaning against the check out counter where Iola was. "I still think you're a nice girl, Iola."

"Hey, Hardy," Chet growled in good nature. "You have to go through me first."

"Defending your sister, Chet?" Joe laughed. "Alright, since it seems like I have to fight this knight for the- ow!"

Mad pulled back the cart slightly, smiling. "And you thought you could leave me alone with this?"

The blond boy rubbed his side where the cart had made contact. "Honestly, no, but the sweet princess was calling my name."

"Iola, if it means anything, I apologize on Joe's behalf."

"Hey!"

Callie couldn't help but laugh. "Here, I'll ring you up."

"Thanks."

Callie looked at the things that the twins had bought. There was vegetables and fruit of all kinds. A few meats followed, then flour, sugar, and other things that she thought would make for some interesting dishes.

She looked up again at the girl, and her eyes widened in shock. It was only the edge of a scar, but the difference between the skin unmarked and the skin mark was obvious. It went from the end of the girl's neck to under her shirt, which Callie had no doubt that it continued on.

"What-"

Madison gave her a look that made Callie lose all her words in her throat. Glancing at her brother quickly (who was engrossed with his conversation with the Morton siblings), she sighed softly. "A gang kidnapped us a few years ago. Wanted to show our dad who was better and all," she whispered.

Taking the hint from the other, Callie lowered her own voice. "Did he get it the worse?"

"Yes." The blonde girl swiped a credit card. "He lost the most, too."

Their eyes didn't meet until Callie handed Madison the receipt. They had lost any hints of joy or teasing in that moment. Instead, there was pain and untold destruction in the blue orbs.

Mad blinked, shielding the emotions with happiness. "Come on, Joe. You can flirt later."

In response, the blond boy stuck out his tongue before sighing dramatically. "She's right. We have to cook tonight. How about you guys come over tomorrow? We should be finished with setting everything up by then!"

"Sure!" Iola said, almost the same time Chet said, "If you keep hitting on Iola…"

"Frank'll keep him in line," Mad promised. As an afterthought for the two girls, she added, "He's our older brother."

"Brother isn't the word. I mean, he barely looks like us! Not to mention he loves his vanilla-"

"Not everyone is extreme as you." With a roll of her eyes, Mad pushed the cart towards the entrance. "Let's go, before I really slam this sucker into you."

"You're mean."

"Thank you."

Callie watched the retreating figures, ignoring the other two teenagers who were quarreling. The image of the scar flashed through her mind and the words whispered in her ears.

_How much did Joe lose, anyways? And what kind of hell got to them?_

* * *

Next chapter is Frank's turn to bond!


	5. Handful of Wires and Computer Parts

It's Frank's turn to have some bonding with Bayport people. He gets Phil because A) They can be computer geeks together and plot world conquest and B) I'm beyond upset at what the graphic designers did to Phil in the Hidden Theft video game. He was made to the point of being a nerd/geek that one would want to give him a wedgie and steal his lunch money. NERDS ARE PEOPLE TOO. *glares at designers*

Anyways, thanks again to all my readers, and special thanks to MCR-1993 and cheer95 for reviewing. *hugs*

Onwards! (And enjoy :D)

* * *

**Toss in a bunch of tangled wires and computer parts. Make sure that they are not attached to anything electrical.**

Phil paused in front of the door, wondering if this was such a good idea. After all, he just met the teenagers the day before. They could all be planning to jump him and-

"I've been listening to Callie and Biff way too much," he muttered to himself. Frank had explained the whole situation with the fight at their old school the day before, as well as some of the other things that the trio had done in helping their father's cases. If anything, he felt as if he could trust them more than some of his so-called friends, like Biff.

Ms. Hardy opened the door before his thoughts wandered further. "Hello, Phil. I suspect you're the friend Frank invited over?"

"Yes ma'am."

"His room is up the steps to your left." She moved aside to let the teen in. "If he's not there, he might be in his siblings' room."

"Okay." Phil wondered how the sleeping arrangements with the twins had worked out, but after what he saw of them yesterday, he could honestly say that he wasn't surprised. Quickly climbing the steps, he observed the posters that adorned two of the doorways. One had a fictional depiction of space with many swirls and cool colors, the main focus on the blue tinted moon in the upper corner. The other one focused on the sun (once again in the corner) with swirls of warm colors radiating to fill the rest of the poster.

Quickly analyzing his options, Phil knocked on the door with the moon poster. "Frank? You in there?"

"Yeah. Door's open."

Phil turned the knob to find that the door was, indeed, unlocked. He opened the door to the sight of many wires and computer part lying around on the desk and bed. In the center of the room, Frank was sitting next to a computer tower, opened up to reveal some of the mechanics inside.

"What did you do?"

The other teenager sighed, pulling away from the interiors of the computer. "Our last computer ended up crashing completely when Madison tried to remove a program. Dad got us a new one, but I have to install the external drive and some other things that require physical connection to some of the stuff in here. It wasn't so bad when I first did it, but I added on gradually. I have to do all of this now."

"Want some help with that?" Phil walked over and looked into the tower. He recognized most of the new things that Frank had added in, but some were completely foreign. "You mind explaining what some of this stuff is while you're at it?"

"I figured you were the computer geek out of the lot."

"Biff?"

"Sadly, yes. Honestly, I wonder how you're friends with him."

"He was a better guy before he was influenced by the neighborhood bully."

"Great." Frank pointed to a small box with wires. "Okay, well, this is a security thing my dad was given from a computer company he helped once. It's kinda cool, because it makes a fake opening in coding that hackers would see as an opportunity to get into our data. But when they get in, the thing actually gets into the other computer and shuts it down completely."

Phil let out an appreciated whistle. "I've never even heard of that!"

"It's still in beta testing, so it probably won't get out for a while. This was the thing that crashed the computer, actually. It thought that Mad was a foreign threat invading our things, so it ruined our own computer. The company is trying to fix that little quirk, I guess."

"Makes sense, though. I mean, if someone physically tried to get into your files, it would stop most of them."

"Yeah. Problem is, I think it was only planned to lock out completely until a day or two."

"Damn."

"Yeah."

For the next hour or so, the two were fixing the computer, swapping stories on their own computer mishaps. Frank also showed off more of the gadgets and programs he and his siblings acquired through some of their cases. The stories eventually shifted to things about their lives.

"…and that was when Chet came in, still wearing the costume, and then-" Phil flung his hands up in exaggeration. "Poof!"

Frank laughed as he placed the tower on the desk next to the monitor. "Well, we could start this baby up, or we could wait 'til we had lunch. Personally, I wouldn't mind the lunch."

"Food actually sounds good now," Phil admitted.

"The twins should be back from shopping, so I can probably make something. Pasta sound good?"

"You don't have to do anything fancy. I mean-"

"It's only pasta," Frank said with a laugh. "Unless putting tomato sauce on it is fancy…"

Phil smiled. "Nah. Unless you put some basil on it."

The two walked down the stairs and approached the kitchen, to find that the blond duo were already at work making their own pasta dish.

"Hey! Hope you guys like bow ties," Joe said.

"Actually, yeah," Frank said. "I was just gonna make some."

Joe turned to Mad, a boasting expression on his face. "Ha! I knew it!"

"So men like pasta. Whatever." Rolling her eyes, Mad explained, "I thought that you two would rather have some sandwiches."

"Sorry, sis, but the Y-chromosome knows all."

"And the double X in girls represents the two eyes punched out of any guy who tries to mess with them."

"Aren't you all moody today."

"Try thinking what it's like to watch you flirt with someone."

"It would be a romantic-"

"Who?" Frank asked. "No one's caught your eye since… well…"

Phil watched as the uncomfortable silence settled in. The siblings seemed to have frozen at the mention of whatever it was that Frank was talking about. But what could it be…?

Joe was the one who ended the silence. "Iola Morton. She's really cute and nice and-" He looked at his sister. "You think I have any chance at all?"

"Well, you're not completely hopeless, if that's what you want to know." She looked up with eyes that matched the color of her twin's. "Honestly, I hope it works."

"I can see you two together," Phil added truthfully. "Just stay faithful and all."

"I would never think of leaving her-" Joe tilted his head, staring at Phil. "You know her."

"Um… yeah?"

Frank rolled his eyes. "Hey, do you know if she likes any pastries or sweets or anything?"

"Yeah, uh… she usually likes cupcakes, I think-"

The blond boy suddenly left the pot that he was checking on and almost ran towards the stairs, not offering any sort of explanations. His twin, however, was a bit more merciful in filling in the confused teenager.

"He's really good with desserts and sweet things. He's probably digging up a recipe from one of his books right now." She checked the contents in the pot, lifting some of the bow ties out with a spoon. "They look ready." Turning off the stove, she moved the pot over to the sink and began to carefully pour the hot water out of the container. "Can you grab the plates, Frank?"

"Yeah, sure." He slipped to the other side of the counter and pulled four dishes out of the cabinet. Rummaging through a drawer, he pulled out some forks as well. "You can sit down over there, Phil. We got it."

"You sure?"

"Don't worry. Just grab a seat."

"If you really, really, desperately, life depending on it, want to help, the cups are next to the cabinet next to the fridge. Pour us whatever you're having," Madison added.

He did, and, after looking at the selection of beverages there (clearly lacking soda and anything too sugary), he picked the grape juice and poured four glasses, which he brought over to the table.

In almost a minute, the two came back with plates full of pasta and sauce. Frank set one in front of the guest, and Mad placed her extra in front of an empty chair.

Joe came in, his head buried within a think hardcover book with a clear picture of a cake on the front. "I think we have everything, but I need to get strawberries-"

"Beat you to it," Mad said, before eating a forkful of her food. "I bought some."

"I owe you."

She waved off the offer with her free hand. "Prize for guessing what those two wanted to eat."

"It wasn't guessing. It was-"

"Yeah, yeah, Y-chromosome."

Phil couldn't help but laugh. "So, how is it that the Y-chromosome knows all?"

"Simple. Think Y as in the w-h-y context, and you know why men have the answers."

"Except when they are lost."

"Ye- nooooo. Why would you say that?"

"Why did you ask me something that you are supposed to know yourself?"

"Because women are these complex, confusing creatures, whose purpose in life is to ruin men's understanding of the universe."

"You seem to do well by yourself on that part."

Fenton, Laura, and Ms. Hardy (she hadn't given permission for anyone to use her first name, unlike her brother and his wife) came into the small dining area of the kitchen. The younger woman walked up to the group with a smile on her face. "The everlasting battle of X versus Y?"

"Yup," Frank said. "You want to tell us why women are out to confuse men?"

"Sorry, Frank, but that's the best kept secret among women."

"Same reason I suspect we all fall in love," Fenton added with a laugh. "We just don't understand the other. So, did you leave any food for us?"

"They're sandwiches in the fridge," Madison offered. "At least they won't be a complete waste."

"Do you have a new case?" Joe asked.

"Maybe." The man walked to the fridge, and pulled out one of the sandwiches that Phil had spotted earlier. "Do you have any information on subway deaths?"

"You mean besides the obvious fact that they're painful?"

Phil couldn't look at his food after the comment, suddenly think the tomato sauce was blood mixed with bits of organs.

Ms. Hardy seemed to agree with the feeling that was forming in the pit of his stomach. "Really, Fenton! They're eating!"

"It's actually a normal occurrence," Laura said. "Where's Killer?"

"In the back. I think he's trying to mark his territory," Frank said. "That, and he doesn't like the parrot too much."

"Playback is a fine bird!" Ms. Hardy protested.

"Aunt T, that 'fine bird' has been calling all of us losers since we got here." Mad looked thoughtful for a second. "Who was the previous owner, anyways?"

"What- how-"

Joe answered for his twin this time. "We figured you weren't the one to use the word loser a lot. Or at all. Of course, it could have been your ex-husband, but he seems to be someone who would be craftier in insults from what we know of him. That, and the name is… weird."

At this point, the eldest woman in the group glared at her brother, who had taken a bite of the sandwich in his hands. Fenton, in turn, half shrugged and swallowed his food.

"I thought they would go into baking and cooking."

Laura rolled her eyes. "I do not believe that for a second, Fenton Hardy!"

Frank chuckled. "Only a middle name away from sleeping on the couch, Dad," he said before taking a sip of the grape juice. "But since the couch still has a ton of boxes on it…"

"And yes, we are cruel children, Dad," Joe added.

"But which side did we pick it up from?" Mad asked, to finish off the statements.

"I agree with the cruel remark," Phil added. "It sounds like a conspiracy against you, sir."

"I figured as much." Fenton sighed. "I'll be assembling my study and going over files if anyone needs me."

"And I guess we're clearing the couch," Joe said with a sigh. "Mad-"

"Go. Make cupcakes. Charm the girl. Whatever." She got up, and placed the dish in the sink. "You're washing dishes, though."

"Figures."

Frank and Phil quickly finished up afterwards, and headed back to Frank's room. Once the door was closed, Phil asked the question that had been on his mind since it formed. "What happened to Joe?"

"Huh?"

"The topic you completely avoided after going quiet on. You don't have to tell me, but I just want to know."

"Oh… that." Frank frowned from what appeared to be the thought running through his head. Finally, after a moment, he asked, "Do you know how victims of torture are sometimes treated?"

"What?"

"That's the thing." The boy let out a sigh. "I'll tell you everything, but you have to promise not to say a word of this to anyone. Including Joe."

"But didn't it happen to him too? He knew what you were talking about earlier."

For some reason, this earned him a chuckle. "I knew there was something about you, Phil. I'll trust you with this, but never mention it to anyone. Even if you do leave after that."

"Leave… is that what kids did in your old school?"

Frank gave a bitter nod. "It happened four years ago…"

* * *

Cliffhanger, hanging from a cliff! And that's why he's called Cliffhanger! (Can't... hold... on... much... longer!) (It's a Between the Lions reference. I loved Cliffhanger. Or, at least, I love the stuff he had to go through :D)

Also, writing this chapter made me realize how much I dislike Biff. It doesn't help his case that he works with the bad guys in one of the Casefiles books, and I can only really associate him with muscles and sports...

And yes, this chapter is full of pointless conversation. But that's the point! *evil laughter*


	6. A Ripped Shirt

Sorry for taking so long with this chapter. There was traveling, then one of those writer blocks where you have multiple paths for a story, but don't know which one to take. (I'm still working on the plot, so it doesn't really help...)

Anyways, it's time to pull the cliffhanger off of the cliff for a bit. In exchange for that little service, please be aware that Biff is a douche and the mentions of attempted rape and dismemberment of limbs and psychological repercusions of mental torture. (The last three are mentioned is passing and therefore no graphic details.) There's also a use of stronger swears (two, if I remember correctly).

As usual, I do not own the Hardy Boys. Enjoy!

* * *

**Now add a ripped shirt into the mix. Expect loud yelling and the word "jerk" after placing this in.**

"No way!" Biff exclaimed over the phone to Belinda, Brian Conrad's sister. "He wouldn't-"

The girl at the other end of the line sighed. _"I told you, Biff, he had it coming. Chief Collig already warned him a few times, but Brian won't listen! And almost setting a house on fire-"_

"Wait, I thought he was only gonna prank the new kids!" The teenage boy frowned at the idea. Sure, he could honestly say that he didn't like the new kids all that much. He thought that Brain's idea for a prank would show them that they were in a different community than whatever they had back west.

_"That's what my brother thought of as the 'greatest prank of all time',"/i_ she replied dryly. _i"Why are you even trying to stick up for him anyways? He's a complete jerk to most people."_

"He's your brother. Shouldn't you being saying nice things about him and all?"

_"I'm not naïve, Biff. In fact, I was hoping that someone would be able to set him straight for years. For God's sake, did you know that he locked me in a closet for over three hours, knowing that I'm claustrophobic, because I asked him to stop harassing a friend of mine?"_

"He didn't know!"

_"Are you kidding? I can't believe you're defending him!"_

"And why aren't you?"

_"Because he ruined my life!"_ A pause created a silence that filled the phone for a moment before Belinda continued. _"There are some siblings who will never stand each other. Brian and I are one of them. Goodbye."_

"Wait!"

Of course, it was already too late. The girl at the other end had hung up, probably from anger. She didn't understand, anyways. Belinda had taken more after her parents than her brother did and was pretty much a goodie two shoes. Biff was sure that she could have been convinced out of it if only Brian kept at it.

Of course, the fact that Biff possessed more than a slight crush on the girl did not help him feel any better about the whole situation.

_All Brian was supposed to do was pull a prank to put them in their place! Of course, if they weren't here at all, Brian probably wouldn't have done something so stupid in the first place! I guess it falls on me to pull anything off._ The teenager sighed at the thought.

Biff couldn't help but recall his friends' comments about his change in attitude. To be truthful (even if only to himself for a moment), he had taken on Brian's end of the attitude spectrum. It began during the fall, when Brian began forcing Biff to do more during workouts. After all, Bayport _icould not/i_ lose just because Biff lacked muscle.

This relationship eventually grew. After all, Biff planned to spend his life playing sports rather than stuck in a cubicle. Someone like Brian was perfect in that realm. So Biff spent more time with him in the gym. Then out of the gym. Eventually, it got to the point where Biff was positive that the people who he had called "friends" for years had nothing compared to the other jock.

The teenager put the cordless phone back in its dock and stepped out the door. The Hardys' house wasn't' that much of a distance from his. He figured he shouldn't waste the gas.

_If they weren't here, we would probably all be fine! But no, everyone wants to meet the new kids! _he thought bitterly. If his pride had allowed him, he would have easily said that he was jealous of the trio. They had talked about some of the cases they had assisted their father in, playing the hero quite a few times. They would easily outshine him when the time for school came around.

_They'll probably ruin most of my chances for a sports scholarship too. Do they think that they can just storm in and take what's deserved?_

Ideas fleeted through his mind as he tried to decide what the best way would be to show the Hardy teens their place. As he rounded the corner to the old Victorian styled house, he settled for just pure strength. After all, he wasn't versed in martial arts and self defense to the level that the two brothers and one sister had reached.

And just his luck, the one that he thought to be the most threat was out on the lawn, moving the hose with sprinkler attached to one side of the lawn. "Hey Biff!"

Biff's smile turned into a fierce frown the second he was close enough to bunch the boy.

The blond seem to anticipate his actions (Biff could later recall wondering how he was able to do that) and dodged. However, Biff's shift in weight made him almost fall. So, on instinct, the muscular teenager grabbed a hold onto the nearest thing, which happened to be Joe's shirt.

The rip wasn't really heard as the jock fell face first into the lawn. He immediately got up, ignoring the pain in his face, while spitting out and grass or dirt that had gotten into his mouth. His eyes landed on Joe and he froze.

Adorning Joe's chest were multiple scars. Quite a few stretched from one end to the other, some of them disappearing to go around his back. The skin contrast was great, and enough of the scars were covering him that his chest seemed to have a completely different skin tone from the neck down except for a few patches.

"So, someone else decide to show you your place?" Biff hissed out, noticing that the boy had suddenly gone tense and focusing entirely on the scars. "Well, next time you should fucking listen to them!"

"You jerk!" His head suddenly was forced to one side, but it wasn't the sudden assault that shocked him. It was the voice's owner.

"Be… Belinda?"

"How could you? You're worse than Brian! I just told you and you go and-" The rest of her words were lost on him as he tried to understand why she was letting all her anger loose on him. Belinda, while being near the same intelligence as Callie, was warm and affectionate and barely (if ever) lost her temper.

It was when he looked at Joe again that Biff realized that there might have been something wrong with the guy.

His sister (Biff hadn't realized that there were more than one person who was watching at this point) slowly approached Joe. "Joe… are you-"

Joe's blue eyes, which seemed to have glazed over as he stared at his scars, suddenly focused with something Biff couldn't identify as his head snapped up to look at Mad. "No… no… you're marked… they got you…"

The frown on Madison's face deepened. "They didn't-"

"They did…" He reached out and traced his finger on some invisible line across her chest. It was then that biff noticed the scar peaking out from the neckline of her shirt. "My fault… they raped you… my fault…" Joe started trembling, shutting his eyes.

"No-"

"Marked you… break you… all my fault… all my fault…" The blond boy was starting to cry.

"Joe…" Frank walked up to his brother.

The blue eyes snapped open for a second to look at the brunette. "Cut you up… all my fault… chop… chop… one at a time… make you puzzle… all my fault…"

"I'm in one piece, Joe. Remember?"

"No! Puzzle… sew you up… make puppet… all my fault…"

"Their fault, Joe," Mad said softly. "Not yours. Theirs."

"No… mine… chop chop… mark mark… all my fault…" Joe fell to the ground, huddling into a ball. He began to rock back and forth, whispering the words over and over…

"What are you doing here?" Callie's icy voice rang out among the assembled people. Biff turned away from the scene to the source of the voice, who was standing on the porch with Chet, Iola, Phil, and Tony.

"Why are you guys here?" he asked back immediately. "These people are-"

Belinda smacked him again, leaving a sting pain in his shoulder. "How dare you? You act like nothing's wrong! You jerk! How could I even think of liking you?"

The last words struck him the hardest. Belinda… liked him? "Bel-"

"Don't you dare call me Bel," she hissed. "I hate you."

It was at that moment where Biff realized that he had screwed up royally.

* * *

Belinda looked at the assembled group in the kitchen. She had just finished telling her side of the tale, and was waiting for some kind a response.

Mad was the first to talk. "Well, on behalf of the universe, I would like to apologize for you having a shitty older brother."

"Madison…" Frank muttered, glaring at his sister for a second.

Belinda took in a deep breath. She had accepted the fact that her brother was not (and probably never will be) a model person. However, instead of worrying about him (or Biff, who she had pushed into a very small corner of her mind and buried him under other thoughts), she decided to ask, "What happened out there?"

Frank sighed in a way that made it sound like he was in pain. "We were actually going to explain it to the other guys here." He motioned to the other Bayport teenagers in the room. "We might as well start the story for you, since we were interrupted by… them."

Mad looked down at the table. "Four years ago, we were helping Dad on a case. There was a murderer who psychologically played with his victims before murdering them brutally. We were told to stay off the case completely, which we ignored part way. We went over crime photos and tried to find new angles of the case from home."

Frank picked up. "The problem happened when our dad seemed to have disappeared. We were used to him not telling us that he was going on some lead or whatnot, but after a week with no word we became worried. Then a body showed up, so disfigured that they couldn't identify it for a long time. But from what measurements they got, they were eerily familiar to Dad's."

"We freaked," Mad said. "It turns out later that it was a warning for Dad, but most of us thought it was actually him. We went in and did our own work from that point out. In the end, we caught the killer."

Callie looked worried. "He escaped, didn't he?"

"Worse. The man had five 'apprentices in training.' They got to us when we were heading back home from the police department."

"They had their own twisted plans for us," Frank said. "First they were starving and beating us occasionally. They had planned to wait a few days before… well, you heard what Joe said. Mad was supposed to be raped until she started to lose some of her mind from the constant assaults. I was to be chopped up into separate limbs and sent to our house one by one. Joe… they did what their mentor did to his victims for a whole week."

"He broke down until one of the bastards tried to touch me," Mad said finally. "He kicked up hell, and the apprentices thought that a good way to control us would be to slash us across our chests repeatedly. We got really lucky because someone had heard the commotion from outside the area that was containing us. They said if it weren't for that and the fact that the hospital was so close, we would have been dead."

The group sat in silence as the information was digested. Belinda became more enraged about the boy who she had harbored a bit of a crush on. How could that jerk even say such things? He had no right to do anything-

"I have relapses sometimes." Joe's voice startled them all as he entered the kitchen. He had hid himself away in the living room when the group reentered the house, taking some time with his siblings before agreeing to let the go to the kitchen. "It was worse when we came back for about a year or so. It's been less now, but…" He sighed, combing his fingers through his hair while his face revealed his annoyance. "I usually don't get as bad as I just did now. I guess it's because I wasn't that comfortable with everyone seeing the scars. I mean, I know it's not my fault but the idea is still there."

"Does it usually get bad when new people find out?" Tony asked.

"Dunno. Rumors spread like wildfire at our old school, and they had a really screwed up grapevine that eventually just made everyone shun us," he admitted. "Every time someone new came along, they would find out the rumors before we could even talk to them!"

"We're just as bad," Callie muttered. Under the questioning looks of the trio, she answered, "We judged you guys because of the fight you guys had at your old school. The one with the gang members."

"Well it's human nature, so we can't blame you," Frank said.

"Besides, those assholes knew us since we were little. They obviously failed the friendship test," Mad added.

"Yeah, and-" A ding interrupted Joe, who exclaimed, "The cupcakes!"

* * *

An even worse cliffhanger. *evil smile* The cupcakes!


	7. Three Conversations

Well, this chapter took a while. *sighs* If one wants to get technical and in my head, I'm technically on four stories (even though Lying Truths and Truthful Lies have some of the same scenes, it leaves quite a bit to write) and this story is taking a while to find the ultimate plot. If there even is one, that is. For all we know (myself included) this could be a wild goose chase.

Now for ranting time! Has anyone seen the new Hardy Boys Clue Brothers or whatever they call the kid version of the series that has started to be published? Has anyone looked through just for the pictures? I did, and probably got some people from the bookstore staring at me for yelling at the book. Laura and Trudy aren't blonde like they're supposed to be (or, at least, how the graphic novels depicit them, and since those pictures seem more like what the characters would actually look like...). Fenton looks like the perfect dad you wish you had that is sportsy and has a job behind the desk. Iola and Biff are... weird. And I want to beat Frank up. And he's a child in that book. That's how bad it is. (Yes, I love children. They're lovable :D)

Okay, now for the rest. I don't own the Hardy Boys (because if I did, I would get some better pictures for the Clue Brother... *shivers at name*) and enjoy!

* * *

**Add three conversations. They should make the bonds between the Hardys and parts of Bayport grow stronger.**

"Cupcakes?" Chet immediately perked up.

"One of his specialties," Mad proclaimed as her twin almost ran to the oven. "He put them in when you guys just got here."

"Can we try them?" Iola asked.

"That's actually why I made them," Joe admitted, revealing a pan of cupcakes cooling. "We got chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, and lime."

"Lime?"

"I've been trying a lot of different fruits with them, and I randomly picked lime when I had the batter."

An hour later found the group with a cupcake each, still warm and covered in frosting and sprinkles. Belinda smiled warmly at Madison, who she had gotten to know in the hour after they migrated to the yard. Frank had been talking to Callie and Phil about some computer program or something in the living room, while Joe revealed to Chet, Iola, and Tony some of the things that the siblings cooked in the kitchen.

"Seems like your brothers have potential girlfriends," she commented.

Mad smiled. "Good for them. I was beginning to worry if they scared them away unconsciously. Surprised about Frank, though. He's not blushing like usual."

"Blushing?"

"We haven't figured out why, but he does it around most girls."

"Oh." Belinda thought for a second. "How about you? And love interests?"

"Not really. I've been treated as an outcast guy so many times that I don't bother looking much. There are so many bastards who have an issue with going out with someone that looks like me physically. Either it looks too gay for them, or I'm just not girly enough with all the right parts."

"The chest?"

"The chest." Mad shook her head. "Of course, all the good guys who look past that already have girlfriends. This one time while we were undercover, some guy started randomly asking my opinion on the chests of the girls who were passing by."

"Seriously? What a perv."

"I told him that before I socked him. Of course, I got in trouble with our dad, but I feel that it was worth it in the end."

"I can't blame you. I always feel like those kind of guys deserve something like that. In fact, most of the male population needs to be punched around a few times." Belinda paused as her thoughts quickly reminded her of the boy she had thought that she cared about. Biff needed a good beating up too, now that she reminded herself of all the horrible things that he had done in vain attempts to impress her. "Why do you act like a guy then?"

"Someone has to act sensible." Looking down, Mad added, "I don't really get any of it myself. For as long as I can remember, I always acted like a boy. I played with Frank and Joe in sports. I hated tea parties and dressing up. It was always that way."

"I can guess what the other girls said."

"You could. It wouldn't take too much. They were really uncreative."

"Were you ever… bullied?"

"Hell, every day of our lives was pretty much a day one of us was going to deal with a bully! Back at our hometown, people didn't understand that being different was actually normal in society."

"That really stinks."

"Humans have a tendency to do that."

"I guess. My brother was a bully."

"Don't you mean is a bully?" At Belinda's questioning look, Mad explained, "We heard about the plot about burning the house down. In fact, I overheard him and was the reason he's arrested."

"Oh."

"Oh?" Mad frowned as she repeated the sound. "I'm the reason your brother got arrested, and all you can say is oh?"

Belinda shrugged. "It's gotten to the point where I would easily choose having no brother than having Brian."

"That bad?" The tomboy shook her head. Belinda could have sworn that she had heard a hint of sympathy in the question. "That's too bad. I guess it would be different than what I know of siblings. Mine treat me like a guy. At least, until Joe points out my chest."

"Is it… could it be a medical thing. You know…" Lacking the words, Belinda just pointed to the tip of a scar that was visible beneath the collar of the shirt.

"True. The doctors weren't too helpful on that certain point." She sighed. "At least it's easier to pull of looking like a boy."

"What's it like?"

"Confusing, I guess. I mean, the 'guy's code' is really just a stupid little thing that is just a bunch of social ideas that they had somehow managed to agree on!"

"Really? Do tell…"

* * *

"There's not much to tell. It's just something that we do," Frank explained to Callie. He had been extremely patient in explaining everything that she felt the need to be questioned. Unlike his blond siblings, the brunette offered full detailed tales and descriptions, which was something she appreciated in a person. Not that she didn't have other means to judge people…

Phil cracked a grin at the statement. "You make it sound so easy."

"Not easy, really. Just… a challenge. Something to do to help society and all. Even… expected."

"Expected?" Callie repeated.

"You know, Dad being big shot Fenton Hardy, world class private eye. What else would his children do?"

"What do his children want to do?"

Frank smiled a somewhat sad smile. "We don't mind doing some detective work once in a while, but not all the time like Dad. It's left too many bad memories."

The single female of the trio frowned at the words. "Anything a little more specific?"

The Hardy's face brightened a bit. "Despite what we've been telling Mom, we've thought about a bakery of sorts. Maybe even a restaurant. I've also looked in a bunch of computer related work."

"How many other Jacks?" Phil asked, earning him two questioning looks. "You know, the saying. 'Jack of all trades, master at none.'"

"Well, we do have a few masters besides the crime fighting one. I'm into technology and logic. Joe's brilliant at making desserts and some other dishes. Mad…" He lowered his voice. "Don't tell her I told you because she'll most likely kill me. She knows her fashion."

"Her? Fashion?" Callie asked in a critical tone that clearly stated her disbelief.

"I barely believe it myself. Joe claims it's all of her supposed girliness is. Something about so small it was only able to converge and dent her that way. She also has a knack for design appearances."

"How does that make you want to join the bakery/restaurant idea?" Phil asked.

"Cooking is relaxing. We picked it up once Dad had a hostage situation and wasn't coming home. It was actually for a home ec project but it just kinda branched out."

"So you wouldn't mind helping out your siblings?"

"We've been through a lot together. I doubt we'll change that any time soon."

An image skidded across Callie's mind of the trio of siblings tortured with dismal hope of being rescued. It might have even crossed their thoughts that the last friendly faces they would have seen would have been each other's. A chill went through her spine.

"How about school?" she asked, trying to change topics.

"I fitted myself for a schedule full of college courses," Frank admitted, looking down slightly.

"Lemme guess: you could have graduated early, but you want to wait for the twins."

"Is it really that obvious?" the boy asked with a sheepish grin.

"Not really. Part of it was guess work."

"Ah. A detective in the making." The brunette chuckled. "Joe and Mad actually skipped a grade, so I thought it would be fair to hold back with them."

"With them?"

"They thought about graduating early, but figured it wouldn't do our parents well to just leave the house so fast. They are the babies, after all."

Phil laughed, but Callie's look seemed to counter the sound. "What choices have you made that were completely your own? So far, everything is attached to your siblings."

"A few. None of them are too life changing…"

Callie, being the young teenage girl that she was, pried further. "Why are you so dependent on them? You act like they're your only friends-" Suddenly, she trailed off. "They _iare/i_ your only friends, aren't they?"

Frank nodded slightly, after making sure no one heard her revelation, despite being the only three in the room. "It's just…" He hung his head, subconsciously running a hand through his hair. "Joe and Mad were instantly branded as freaks since the first day of school. Even though I was different, it was decided I was a freak by relation. I wanted to fit in so bad…"

Phil's eyes widened as he muttered, "Did you bully them?"

Callie never thought she would see such self loathing as she did on Frank's face. "The worse part was that they forgave me. They wouldn't tell any of the adults and… and when we were at home, it was like I never did anything to them. I… I waited for that day that they would explode and kick my ass…"

"When did it happen?"

"Never."

An unsettling silence seemed to suddenly cloak the group. Frank diverted his gaze to the floor, and waited a moment before speaking again.

"They told me that I was lonely and that they had each other. They worried about me having friends instead of their big brother being an idiot." He sighed. "It would be impossible to replace them."

* * *

"Are you claiming, good sir, that grand cooking with artificial ingredients cannot be done?" Chet said in a mock voice of authority. "I'll have you know that I have had some _splendid_ dishes where such a thing is feasible."

Joe laughed, then replied in the same tone, "I'll have you know, good sir, that I can prove to you that it is in fact impossible to do such a feat!"

Iola rolled her eyes for possibly the tenth time within the conversation. "Really?"

"Yes, really. In fact, I do need some taste testers for some new recipes I've been itching to try."

"Like what?" Tony asked out of curiosity. After working in his father's pizza place, he had come to an appreciation of cooking or baking of any kind. It took some work to produce quality food, and if the cupcakes allowed for any kind of glimpse into Joe's skills, Tony was willing to try.

"Eh, some random dishes I've picked up. Most of them are probably gonna end up being some kinda of dessert or sweet. Frank says it's my specialty." Joe shrugged half heartily before a grin spread on his face. "It's weird picking up that for a hobby, but it gives me reason to eat a lot of sweets!"

"How many cupcake recipes do you have?" Iola asked.

"A ton. A certain twin of mine thought it would be funny to get me a stack of books of cupcake recipes and decorating ideas for the past five birthdays and Christmases. Of course, I've been returning the favor…"

Chet crack a grin. "Revenge?"

"Sure, if that's what you want to call it. I call it karma, since it would mean that she couldn't punch me." Walking behind the counter, Joe pulled back a cover of a cabinet that had been separate from the rest of the kitchen setup and had rested on the counter next to the fridge instead. He moved aside to reveal a shelf of cook books. "We haven't invested in a bookshelf just yet, but we're going to. This is only a quarter of our collection."

"_Only?_" Tony stared at the books, estimating over twenty alone from the selection that was revealed. "You should have invested in a bookshelf a long time ago if this is only a quarter."

"Our old kitchen had a shelf built into the cabinets. We never really needed one."

"If you have that many things to try out, I'll be happy to come over at every meal!" Chet exclaimed, eyeing the books himself. Iola shook her head at her brother's statement, and Tony could swear he heard her mutter something about a "bottomless stomach."

"That would be nice, but I'm not sure if the family could handle so much variety in so little time."

"They're lost."

Tony shook his head. "How about a weekly thing? We'll come over on Saturday and you can test all your dishes then."

Something sparked in Joe's eyes, which Tony was grateful for. Ever since the mention of his past run in with the cruel gang, he seemed to have dulled his personality (even though that was tough to prove considering there had been only a small handful of times where they talked). But something about cooking brought him out of it.

"Why not? Might as well get myself some test hams."

"Test hams?" Iola asked. "You mean like hamsters?"

"Yeah. We call it test hams because of a case we were on. You see…"

* * *

Yup. It's bonding. And character development. And food. *is kinda hungry now* We get a glimpse of Madison's "girlish side" as Joe dubs it, Frank's own issues, and Joe's cooking collection. As for test hams... yeah... um... gotta go!


	8. Some Clothing

I suspect that you guys are a bit annoyed that this hasn't been updated since... holy crap, August? Damn. I've had a lot of stuff to do and working on the plot for this little story in my head. I got what I hope to be an okay plan, but I'm refining things as I go. (Story of my life.)

So, this chapter is Belinda and Madison. There are mentions of rape in here (more so than... I think it was chapter 6) so here's the warning that it is here. Yeah. Also some girl-kissing-girl, if that urks anyone.

I do not own the Hardy Boys (there would be some dramatic changes if I did). Enjoy!

* * *

**Add in one cup of clothing. The state of condition does not matter so much as the style: girl clothing, but not too girlish.**

It had been over two weeks since Belinda had officially met the Hardy siblings, and she could honestly tell herself that she would easily trade her brother to stay with them. They had no idea about exactly what kind of bully Brian was, and therefore didn't have it ingrained into their minds that they were supposed to keep away from her. While she did pity her brother for landing himself in jail (technically juvenile detention center), it was probably long overdue for him to turn up there.

Madison's sky blue eyes stared at the lights shining through the plastic with a look of disbelief and maybe even a touch of shock. "You brought me shopping."

Belinda rolled her eyes. Despite knowing that her friend had said a statement, she still responded like it was a question. "Yup! I thought that it was about time that you got a change in wardrobe."

"Really?"

"You and Joe share all the clothing. And you're sixteen." Belinda couldn't help but let an amused smile appear on her lips. "It's time to show the world that you aren't a guy, breasts or not."

"Right. So the logical answer was to drag me to the mall to shop." A lopsided grin appeared on the girl's face. "And I assume this store has something that you think would work with me."

"I'm not planning to get you dresses and skirts, if that's what you're worrying about. Just some shirts and pants that were made for girls."

"My brothers are going to have a field day with that. I haven't worn something that was obviously made for girls since… hm…"

"That long, huh?" Belinda grabbed her friend's hand. "Better end it soon then, don't you think?"

"If you say…" The taller girl allowed herself to be dragged into the store. That was when Belinda noticed the cold, calculating look in the blue eyes. They were looking around as if there was some threat within the department store.

_She does this every time we go out somewhere. Is it a detective thing?_ Belinda silently mused to herself. Against her judgment from curiosity, she decided not to ask. "I thought that we could search for some shirts here first. The pants can wait for another time."

Mad barely nodded her head, still preoccupied with searching the area out. "Sure."

Belinda paused, which finally brought Madison's attention back to her. "I want the truth. Is there something here that you're worried about?" the long blonde hair girl asked in a hush tone.

"It's… nothing."

"I don't believe it."

"Don't, then. It should just be my problem, anyways." Almost involuntarily, her sight flew back to whatever she was staring at earlier. Belinda followed the line of sight to the men section of the store until she spotted a group of men hanging out near the changing room.

"You shouldn't worry about me," Mad finally muttered, trying to loosen herself from the other's grasp. "I'll be fine-"

"I should have realized." Why hadn't she before? The Hardy girl had all but told them all what had happened. It was just a matter of noticing her actions, something her brothers might not have even noticed after suffering themselves. It would make sense that she changed so much after an experience so close to death… "Did you ever get help?"

The blue eyes turned to ice as the words started tumbling out too fast for comfort. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Those men from years ago. How much did they-" The rest of the question was lost to her. Why would she want to ask such a horrible thing anyways? If Madison went so far to hide it…

It was Mad who dragged them towards the bargain racks in the end. The grasp was soft but firm, and Belinda couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the friend she had made only two weeks ago. Was it only a mask to hide the truth? Was Mad just like all the others? Could she really just tear apart another without much thought-

"Frank and Joe were unconscious," the other girl began in a soft voice as her eyes flew the gaze at the different shirts on the rack. It was as if they were in two different worlds, in a sense; the one of simple, enjoyable shopping, and the one of the harsh truth. "They wanted me to scream. Raping me was for another time."

The words were enough to explain everything while letting the taller blonde girl to keep her secrets. "Didn't you see a therapist for it?"

"Why? My stupid pride won't let me. And I had to care for Joe. I couldn't be dealing with my own issues-"

"Are you less important than him?"

The blue eyes were still trying to ignore her appearance. "What kind of person am I, Belinda? Out of the three, I'm the one who sticks out like a sore thumb in a lot of situations. Frank can pretty much charm anyone. Joe has the charisma and energy that makes him… him. I'm the hot tempered girl who cares for no one else's feelings. I've been suspended from school more than double the times Joe and Frank have combined-"

"Frank's been suspended?" The question suddenly came out suddenly. It wasn't something that was really relevant to the information she wanted to know, but it came in close in its own way.

"Once. Beat a guy up for trying to sabotage one of our projects. It was after the incident, so my parents chalked it up to aggression and fear."

"And what did they attribute yours to?"

"Same thing at first. But he got better. Look at me and tell me that I turned out exactly the way I was supposed to."

There was nothing that Belinda felt she could say that would be a strong enough answer to that. So, instead, she joined her friend in scanning the racks for something that would be suitable for her to wear.

"This looks nice." Belinda pulled out a shirt with varying shades of blue and a hood from the rack. "Matches your eyes."

"I guess." Mad took the hanger from her, and examined the shirt for herself. Every once in a while, Belinda could see her eyes flicker to the group of boys in wariness, as if trying to will them away and-

"I'm sorry!"

"Huh?"

"I… I apologize on behalf of this universe that people are sometimes evil and make other people deal with them. I'm sorry that you seem to hate things because they don't understand you. And-"

Her friend placed a hand on her shoulder. "You're starting to sound like me. That's not a good sign." The smile on her face ruined any potential attempts to try and be serious, but had no effect on Belinda.

"But-"

"I forgive the universe. Besides, it sometimes better to be me instead of someone else."

She turned away and walked towards the fitting room, leaving Belinda to wonder exactly what she meant before she followed behind.

* * *

_"You follow her around like a lovesick puppy sometimes. And when you want some advice about what to do, you won't tell me what exactly is going on,"_ Callie complained over the phone. The duo had found more shirts and even a few pants for the Hardy girl to try on, and Belinda had sent Mad into the dressing room with all of the pieces. While waiting, the questions within her head of what was the right thing to do had gotten to the point where she needed someone's help. That someone turned out to be Callie, but the conversation was not helping her feelings much.

"It's her place to tell. She'll probably be mad that I'm even hinting towards it-"

_"And once again, you rely on her opinions."_ A sigh that hinted towards irritation came out of the girl on the other end. _"Look, Belinda, I know that you want to be friends with the Hardys. Hell, they seem like okay people. But they all have issues to some level, when you think about it. If they have problems, they need to ask for the help. Not let us intervene."_

"Cal-"

_"Let her be."_ Without any kind of signal to officially end the conversation and in true Callie Shaw fashion, the girl hung up.

Belinda stared at her phone, watching as the screen confirmed that the phone call had ended. She wondered if it was something that she had said. Despite her usual behaviors that did seem rude if one didn't know how Callie worked her life, she was never usually this cold about anyone. Sure, they had talked about Brian in a less than flattering way (and Biff, now that she thought about it) but it was never to the point where they would completely disregard certain issues. And certainly not something to _this_ level.

Another part of her brain was repeating the words that Cal had said. The idea of being a "lovesick puppy" was odd, to say the least. Belinda had thought that she was getting over her crush on Biff by staying with her new friend, if anything. But was she really that desperate to fill in the gap that was left behind? Or was it something else?

"Hey, Bel."

The nickname quickly brought her attention to the guy that was standing in front of her. She was oblivious to such things at times of deep thought, but no one was allowed to call her "Bel." Not even her brother would try, unless he was in a particularly suicidal mood.

"Who are you?" The words came out ruder than they were meant to be, but Belinda did not feel like dealing with whoever the guy was at the moment. In fact, the more she thought about it, she wouldn't have minded if most of the guy population just kept away.

"Don't you remember me? I hung out with Brian." He flashed a smile as if it would jog her memory.

"I don't hang out with my brother's friends," she answered back bluntly. "I don't like being harassed."

"Well, sweetie-" Belinda outwardly cringed at the sound of that word directed towards her. "-now that your brother isn't around-"

"He's in jail, if you haven't heard."

"-then we can date."

"No." She got up to move closer to the dressing room, silently willing for someone to come and help her.

He easily blocked her. "Hey, listen-"

A sales associate stopped the statement from going any further. However, Belinda could already tell that this man would have less of an imposing will needed to get this guy out of her face. "Sir, I think you're harassing the lady-"

"She's mine," he growled back, grabbing her arm.

"Hey!" Belinda pulled away, and in effect almost backed into a clothing rack. "I don't want anything to do with you!"

"Now listen here, princess. I just want a sexy body to be with me when I sleep. And you fit the bill perfectly. And I know you want this-" He made another attempt to grab her, and succeeded in pulling her closer. "-you little slut-"

His grasp loosened and Belinda quickly backed away. She registered that he had yelped, and looked to see exactly what had happened.

"Really?" Mad's voice was dangerously low and her eyes were filled with anger, which seemed to alter the sky blue to more of a drowning blue. "Is that what you think of women?"

"Listen, man, I saw her first-"

The grip she had on his arm tightened, and he let out another groan to signal his pain. "I may look like a guy, but I'll assure you I'm female. And you want to know why? Because some assholes from your side of the population decided to cut me up and have fun with me when I was thirteen. They made me suffer-" Her arm tensed, which in turn made her grip even more painful. "-and threatened to kill me every second after they had their fun. Are you that type of guy? Want a lay so badly that you threaten others? That you might even kill someone?"

_She's gonna break something of his,_ Belinda realized. _But then she'll get into so much trouble… he'll claim an assault and then-_

Once again, Belinda's luck held out. A cop that she didn't recognize came strolling to the trio. "You were told not to harass any more women, Mr. Jerry. I'm afraid this time I'll have to place you under arrest."

That's when the guy really exploded. "So I raped one girl. What's the big deal? She was asking for it-"

All hell seemed to break loose afterwards. The guy tried to escape, but Mad swung her leg out and swept his feet out from under him, sending him crashing into the ground. He made an attempt to punch her in the forehead, but instead it connected with her jaw. Somewhat fazed, Mad released her grip. He got up and was probably ready to pulverize her, but never got the chance as the girl quickly recovered and aimed one of her own punches to the underside of his jaw. While he was flailing back, she gave a final push and sent him once again to the ground, but this time took care to let her military style boot hover over his neck.

"When they tell you stop, you stop." The words barely left Mad's lips, but Belinda heard them clear as day. "You fucking piece of filth."

* * *

"That piece of filth is being sent back to New York City. That's where his parents live, but he kept coming over here to hang with Brian," Belinda explained. After going to the police station and filing out reports, they were able to get a ride back to the mall, where they finally made their purchases and arrived at the food court. Within all of that time, the two had not spoken a word to the other until that moment.

"Do you know the girl?" Madison asked, not lifting her gaze from the slushie in her hands.

"No. It happened in the city."

"Figures. Was he on bail?"

"I think so. There were claims that there was not a lot of proof. I think that his actions today will hurt that case, though." Hesitantly, she reached out and grasped the other's hand. "Thanks."

Madison didn't acknowledge the single word. "He didn't hurt you, right?"

"It just shook me up. The other guys stopped caring about me since I lack certain… aspects compared to the ones who are willing to be with them."

"You're still probably prettier than them."

"Huh?"

"I…" A blush slowly covered the blonde's face. "Sorry. Just thinking out loud."

"No, it's fine. The guys only really look at me because I was unobtainable since Brian was always around." Belinda paused, wondering about her brother. While he was the definition of an asshole most of the time the siblings were together, he was still protective to some level, especially when it came to boys trying to go out with her. If he heard what the guy did to her today, he would probably be even less forgiving than Mad.

"They just look for the really dolled up ones," Madison replied before taking a sip of her drink. "Things like that make me positive that I will never find a boyfriend."

"How about a girlfriend?" The words were out of Belinda's mouth before she could stop and think. _Why did I ask that? I mean, it would be okay if Madison was a lesbian, but that just made me sound desperate for my own love. Right?_

"I've never really thought about it," the other girl admitted. "I guess it would be okay-"

Something just snapped in Belinda. Standing up, she leaned over the table, grabbed the blonde's head, and brought their lips together. It was simple, sweet (both literally and figuratively), and short.

The spilled slushie did not help at all.

"Sorry!" The damage had already been done: Madison's current shirt (which was the one that she had wore in the morning, therefore, being one made for men) was soaked in cherry slush.

Mad didn't respond as she grabbed a napkin from the table and started to get what excess liquid/ice she could off the shirt. Belinda silently handed her more napkins as the memories of the actions that set the mess off came back to her full force. _Why did you do that Belinda?_ she scolded herself. _You've only known her for a few weeks! She just admitted that she never thought about dating girls! Hell, when have you thought about dating girls?_

"Does this count as a date?"

"What?" Belinda looked up into sky blue eyes. "Did you just-"

"Yeah. I mean… well…" Mad looked down. "I wouldn't mind, I guess."

"Uh, sure. I… Spur of the moment and all…"

"The defining moment of our relationship?" Their eyes met, and they both burst out laughing.

_Maybe Callie was right. But at least I'm happier than her right now._

_

* * *

_

So, what have we learned today? (1) I need to learn how to write fight scenes better. (2)Don't piss of Madison. It's hazardous to your health. (3) Callie can be mean sometimes.

Next is Joe!


End file.
